Strong For Too Long
by Ghostluvr120
Summary: I set the book gently between my left calf and arm rest book binding down like my mom always taught me and gingerly began opening the paper. My hands began to tremble when i recognized the elegant, loopy, handwriting. Mom. It was a letter addressed to- me?


Disclaimer: Jeff Davis and MTV own Teen Wolf, not me sadly. Warning(s): Angst?(I think?) Implied Sterek (if you want)

10 years. 10 years ago, today, frontotemperal dementia took my mom away from my dad and I. I was in the shed my dad built a while back to keep my moms old stuff. It was small about 6 feet by 8 feet and it was painted cherry blossom red which was mom's favorite color. When you open the door and walk in you can see that one wall is made up entirely of book shelves while the rest was just boxes piled on top of each other along the other walls. My mom loved to read and would buy a new book practically every other day which drove my dad insane because we were running out of space for them all. Next to the shelves by a large window was her old reading chair, it reminds me of the chair Ellie had in the movie Up, it was never really comfortable but mom always had a way of finding just the right position to sit in. I guess that's where i got the ability to sleep anywhere from. At the foot of the chair was an old obnoxious orange rug that didnt match any decorations we had in the house but mom insisted we buy it after she spotted it in a garage sale we were driving passed. Dad he kept trying to reason with her but she was determined to buy it saying it was the softest looking rug she had ever laid eyes on. Ha, I remember my dad trying to look upset with her for the impulse buy but I can remember seeing the way his lips would turn upwards just a fraction which blew his cover. The chair creaked slightly under my weight as I sat down and the upholstery was a little scratchy against my pale skin, but it didnt matter to me because it was my favorite spot to sit. I reached over to the bookshelf and grabbed the first book i came into contact with which was an old worn out copy of Sherlock Holmes. It was her favorite novel so she used to read it to me every night as my bedtime story, its where I got my love for solving riddles and mysteries. I flipped open the cover and saw 'Property of Claudia Stilinski' writtened just below the title. Blinking back a few tears i began flipping through the old pages looking at all the little illustrations, chuckling at the little notes my mom left on the borders of the page, when a small folded piece of paper fell out from betweeen the pages. At first I shrugged it off thinking it was probably a makeshift bookmark but did a double take when i noticed some writing between the pages. I set the book gently between my left calf and arm rest book binding down like my mom always taught me and gingerly began opening the paper. My hands began to tremble when i recognized the elegant, loopy, handwriting. Mom. It was a letter addressed to- me?

_"My dear little Genim, I knew you or your father would find this letter and if you are reading this its probably because I didnt win the fight against my disease. I just want you to know, neither my illness nor my death was your fault. I know because of your soft heart you will blame yourself or think your father blames you, but it isn't true. You were just a boy forced to watch as his mother got weaker and weaker and I'm sorry that I couldn't get better. My death will probably difficult on you and your father. I know it will be difficult but you have to be strong, not just for you but for your father as well. He will take my passing hard but you can't let him follow me into an early death and I know this is probably too much to ask a young boy to do but I have no other choice. I'm asking because I know you will take care of your father like i have taken care of you but remember this, Genim, while being strong for your father's sake is brave and courageous it can be dangerous. Don't be afraid to ask other's for help, like Scotty, because if you keep bottling up your pain for the sake of other's you will find that by the time you realize you're suffocating it will be too late. People cry not because they're weak. It's because they've been strong for too long. It's ok to be strong but dont forget it's ok to cry sometimes too._

~With all her love, your mom, Claudia Stilinski "

I hadn't realized the tears that I had been fighting all day had let loose until they fell on the page near the ink. I quickly wiped them away in fear they would smudge the ink and ruin the last thing to me from my mother. I sat there, in the scratchy old chair, rereading the letter trying to imagine my mother's voice reading the letter to me like she read everything else. It was a little difficult as her voice was unfortunately slowly fading from my mind with each passing year the thought alone turned my stray tears into chest wrenching sobs. We had plenty of pictures of my mother so I would always remember her face, she loved taking pictures, but not many videos to remember her voice by. To her pictures were meant to send you back in time to relive the moment not rewatch it from a camera's perspective. So i sat there eyes closed, desperately clutching onto the note as if it was a lifeline, sobbing so loud the neighbors would probably hear if they stepped outside. In between sobs I kept crying out for my mom hoping that if I called to her long enough she would somehow come back and everything would go back to the way it was before. Dad wouldn't need to drink himself into a coma every night so he wouldn't dream of her and I wouldn't have to obsessively watch over him every day just to keep him going. Somehow, while i was sobbing, I found myself on the floor, my fingers clutching the rug so tight my knuckles were turning white. It was probably a pathetic sight, an 18 year old boy who was determined to prove himself a man, crying out for his dead mother. Yeah if Jackson saw he would never let me live this down, but then again he was growing a heart so maybe he would understand. I was alone during the anniversary of the worst days of my life. Then suddenly I wasn't alone. I was being engulfed by a pair of strong arms and pulled into an equally strong chest. I didn't need to look to know who it was. I just clutched his shirt and sobbed into his chest. I could feel Derek's stubble gently scrape my face as he placed a gentle kiss to my temple whispering 'it's going to be ok'. Somehow i knew what he was referring to. "How did you know where i was?" "Scott told me when I called him to ask where you were since you weren't answering any of my texts or calls. 'Didn't think you would want to be alone." I smiled softly into his chest. "Thanks Sourwolf." Derek made a soft noise of acknowledgement gently resting his head on mine. We just sat there not saying a word only shifting positions so i was sitting betweens his legs with my back to his chest and his arms around me as he leaned against the wall of boxes. "Love you, Sourwolf." I whispered softly knowing he could hear me. "Love you too, Stiles." He replied after kissing the top of my head. "How you feeling?" He asked after a while. I smiled glancing over to the letter that had floated to the floor and thought of what my mom said. "Like I've been strong for far too long."

Author's Note: Thank you guys so much for giving this story a chance and reading! A review, good or bad, would greatly be appreciated as well as any advice from fellow author's and readers. This is my first published story as well as my first Teen Wolf fic! I hope i didn't fail too bad! It's a little on the shorter side and I hope there wasn't too many grammatical errors as this is an unbeta'd story. Depending on the feed back of this short one-shot will determine if i should publish my other story with my OC.


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